


The Skeleton Court

by Bittersweet



Series: October Prompts [20]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Chicago Blackhawks, Fluff and Angst, Head Injury, M/M, Skeletons, the wild hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 15:05:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12435309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittersweet/pseuds/Bittersweet
Summary: Patrick spends Halloween in the skeleton court with Jonathan, its prince.





	The Skeleton Court

The skeleton court was in high spirits Halloween night. Prince Jonathan, Lord of the Dead, ruler of the skeleton court, shifted in his throne where he was overseeing the festivities and sighed.

“Something wrong Captain?”

Jonathan glanced up to his right where his most loyal knight stood. He was the only one who still used that title to address him and it made Jonathan smile, bringing back memories of more exciting times when they had led armies together and struck fear in the hearts of men. “You should be enjoying the party Seabs,” he said not wanting to drag the knight into his moroseness. “What was that?” he asked sitting up straight as an unfamiliar noise echoed through the court. The dead stopped their cavorting and the court was silent as they listened for the sound.

“I believe it’s a summons Captain.”

Jonathan snorted wondering who would be foolish enough to disturb his court.

“Shall I let the hounds out Captain?” Seabrook asked grinning.

“No.” Jonathan stood up, boredom driving him to investigate this curious situation. “If these mortals are foolish enough to call on the Lord of the Dead it’s only fair that they meet him.” He grinned and a dry laugh, like the rustling of dead leaves, rose through the court as Jonathan disappeared.

 

The summons had come from the enormous cemetery that lay above the court and Jonathan made a spectacular appearance in the tomb where nine hooded figures stood around the sarcophagus that stood in the centre of the tomb. On the flat stone lid of the sarcophagus, a young man with fair skin and blonde hair lay unconscious.

“It worked!” one of the hooded figures squeaked drawing back at Jonathan’s sudden appearance.

“Shh!” one of the others chastised.

Another drew a dagger from the folds of his robes and held it in both hands over their victim on the makeshift altar. “Lord Satan!” he said in a booming voice. “Drink of the blood of the innocent and be bound to do our bidding this night!”

Jonathan snorted, cold black and red fire leaping along his skeletal form in his amusement. Was that who they thought they were calling to with their ill-advised ritual? They were bigger fools than he had thought.

The dagger plunged down and Jonathan moved the same instant, throwing the cultist across the room before the blade could touch its victim. Jonathan heard the skull of the cultist hit the stone wall with a satisfying crunch and turned to the rest of the cultists, reveling in their screams and laughing at their pitiful attempts to escape. When they had all passed from the land of the living Jonathan turned back to the altar. The young man was still unconscious and Jonathan could smell the blood that had seeped from the cut along his temple into his hair. It was a nasty wound and would likely prove fatal. As good as this century’s doctors were, it was unlikely he would reach them in time. He shook his head at the waste.

Jonathan reached towards the young man, ready to release his soul so it could find its way to wherever its final destination might be then hesitated, lifting him into his arms instead and disappearing back into the realm of the dead.

 

His head ached. It took him a moment to remember why. He had been leaving the hospital after pulling a double shift in the ER. He had just gotten to his car when something struck him. He reached up and touched the side of his head, feeling a lump and his fingers brushing against what he assumed was gauze. He swallowed the panic that rose in his throat and forced himself to take stock of his situation. He could remember his name and there didn’t seem to be any gaps in his memory. No brain damage then, that was good. He wasn’t restrained, also good. He stood up tentatively, relieved that there was no dizziness, and walked around the comfortable, old-fashioned room. He had just completed his first lap when the door opened and a man, close to his age, tall and not bad looking, came in. Patrick tensed, waiting to see what would happen next.

“You’re awake,” the man said. “Took you long enough.” A smile flitted over his lips and he held out his hand. “I’m Jonathan.”

Patrick gaped then hesitantly shook the offered hand. “Patrick. Do you…how did I get here?”

“You were in trouble so I brought you here to my home.”

“So I can leave then?” Jonathan seemed nice enough but he really needed to get to the hospital and have the cut on his head looked at by a professional.

Jonathan looked a bit sad. “Not quite yet.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Come with me Patrick.”

They left the room and headed down a long hallway. Patrick watched for a way out but there didn’t seem to be any. He realized as they walked that he could hear music. It got louder and clearer as they walked and soon he and Jonathan passed through a large archway onto a platform where a throne stood looking out across an enormous room. Patrick wandered forward, staring at the scene in front of him in disbelief.

There were hundreds of skeletons dancing and playing musical instruments, hundreds more seated at a long table feasting from what looked like empty plates to Patrick. He looked up and saw that there were even more skeletons above, watching the festivities from balconies like the type at an opera house.

“There was brain damage,” he said feebly falling back into the throne and staring disbelievingly in front of him. “I’m hallucinating or in a coma or—”

“You’re not insane Patrick,” Jonathan said calmly. “This is my home. Welcome to the skeleton court.”

Patrick looked over at Jonathan. “How come you’re not a skeleton?”

“I can appear however I want. I thought you might be less frightened of me in this form but I can change if you’d like.”

“No, that’s okay.” Patrick closed his eyes, took a deep breath and looked at Jonathan again. “Am I dead?”

“No.” Jonathan looked sad again and Patrick could practically hear the words not yet hanging in the air.

“Right. So this is the skeleton court and you’re in charge of it? That makes you what? Their king?” This was all just some crazy dream, Patrick decided, and if he played along he’d wake up and everything would be back to normal.

“Prince,” Jonathan corrected.

“Right. It’s Halloween. Isn’t there supposed to be some sort of hunt or something? Or is this party all you guys do?”

Jonathan laughed. “I think you mean the Wild Hunt. That’s a bit outside of my realm.”

“Oh. That’s too bad, it sounds like fun.”

“It does, doesn’t it. “ Jonny looked at him. “Well who says we can’t have a hunt of our own! Seabrook!” he shouted over the noise of the festivities. A skeleton stood up from the table and joined them on the platform. “Ready the horses and the hounds! Tonight the Skeleton Court takes to the skies!”

“You mean you can fly?” Patrick blurted out as Seabrook left to carry out the Prince’s orders.

Jonathan smirked. “That’s the part you have a problem with?”

Patrick lost track of time in the flurry of activity that followed Jonathan’s decision to have a hunt and the next thing Patrick knew he was seated on a skeletal horse at the head of a host of skeletons with Jonathan and Seabrook.

“Ready?” Jonathan asked and Patrick nodded. Jonathan lifted a bone horn and blew into it, the deep note reverberating across the cemetery where they had gathered with the horses. An instant later the horses were galloping across the cluttered ground, their furious pace lifting them up, racing towards the cloudless night sky.

Patrick laughed as the wind whipped around him and the hounds bayed like they were on the scent of some long sought prey. He glanced to his side where Jonathan was riding and pressed his steed to run faster. Jonathan took the challenge and soon the two of them were ahead of the host, neck and neck as they raced across the sky.

The hunt ended far too soon for Patrick’s liking as the host circled and landed back in the cemetery.

“That was amazing!” Patrick said grinning. He hugged a startled Jonathan. “Thank you! What do we do next?”

“Now you wake up.”

Patrick frowned. “What?”

“It’s almost dawn you have to—”

“—wake up Patrick.”

Patrick opened his eyes and blinked in confusion. “Abby?” he asked in confusion as he recognized the woman at the side of his hospital bed. “What’s going on?” he asked as she tapped out a quick message on her phone. “How did I get here?”

“You were attacked in the parking lot last night,” Abby said her voice shaking. “The doctors had to do an emergency surgery to relieve the pressure on your brain. You were in a coma Pat.” She covered her mouth with her hand as tears started to spill down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she apologized taking a deep breath and wiping at the tears. “Patrick and I have been here with you all night, he just went to get coffee a few minutes ago, and your family will be here from Buffalo as soon as they can.”

“So I’ve been here all along?” Patrick asked feeling strangely disappointed. At that moment Abby’s husband rushed into the room followed closely by Doctor Keith.

“Oh thank God,” Sharp breathed when he saw Patrick awake. “Dammit Peeks don’t scare us like that!”

“Sorry,” Patrick mumbled, suddenly feeling very tired as Sharp took his hand and held it tightly. Patrick glanced over at Keith.

“You’re going to be fine,” Keith said reassuringly. “I have no idea how with the kind of trauma you suffered but you’re going to be fine.”

“Must be his abnormally hard head,” Sharp joked still clutching Patrick’s hand.

“Haha Sharpy.” Patrick’s eyes drifted shut and he forced them open again.

“That’s enough for now,” Keith said. “Patrick needs to get some rest; we need him back at the nurses station in ER.” He squeezed Patrick’s shoulder.

“Can we stay for a while longer?” Sharp asked.

Keith hesitated then nodded. “So long as you don’t disturb him.” He left and the Sharps settled back into their chairs next to Patrick’s bed.

 

**Four Months Later**

It had been a few weeks before Patrick had learned everything that had happened. He had been found in a cemetery by a security guard who had noticed the door to one of the tombs open and decided to investigate.

“It’s a good thing he did,” Keith had said. “I don’t care how lucky or thick-headed you are, if he hadn’t found you and called an ambulance we’d be standing over your grave right now.”

It had taken even longer for Patrick to get back on his feet and convince his dad that he was well enough to go see the place where they had found him. Patrick stood in the tomb now, his parents waiting a short distance away, but it didn’t give him any new insights into what had happened. The police were still looking for the people who had attacked him but there had been no sign of them.

“Jonathan?” Patrick called softly, voice echoing quietly against the tomb’s stone walls. There was no answer and Patrick shook his head, feeling foolish as he walked back out into the sunlight.

He headed back to where he had left his parents and quickened his pace as he noticed someone talking to them. He was tall with dark hair and was wearing a black jacket with the word security emblazoned across the back. The security guard turned around as Patrick neared and Patrick found himself face to face with Jonathan.


End file.
